


Evergreen

by Liminal Minds (LiminalMinds)



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Anxiety, Bella gets helped, Character Study, F/F, F/M, Healing, Jessica is a good friend, M/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Setting Boundaries, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire/Human, and her human friends love her, bella loves her human friends, can u see all the stylistic choices I'm making?? I hope so, characters and tags to be added, etc - Freeform, eventual BAMF Bella, girls are not punished for liking girly things in this book!, inaccurate therapy talk, no cullens for AGES, post New Moon, road to recovery, slowburn, therapy for bella!, tw for depression, worldbuilding???? in this economy?? maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiminalMinds/pseuds/Liminal%20Minds
Summary: "I thought I died, but in between you and him I discovered I was an evergreen".Edward leaves, and Bella is broken.She's supposed to be broken until he comes back and fixes her, right?Wrong.It's up for Bella to put the pieces of her back together, to find out who she is without Edward.To be who she was always meant to be.But in the shadows, Victoria lurks. Patient and deadly.The past catches up eventually.*spans a few months after the New Moon breakup, then starts a few years afterwards.*
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Bella Swan, Character/Character (Spoilers), Past Bella Swan/Edward Cullen, Past Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Rosalie Hale/Emmett Cullen
Comments: 15
Kudos: 54





	1. Jessica, Letters, and Letting go

_ Chapter One _

  
  


My soul  _ ached. _ It hadn’t stopped aching since- since He  _ left.  _ I felt cold from the inside out, my bones hollowed out and weighted in loss. My sunshine had disappeared, my  _ angel,  _ my forever. And all that was left was Forks, grey and rainy. 

Has anybody ever felt despair like this before? 

I should have known that I wasn’t enough; that I could never measure up to the beautiful immortal beings that surrounded Him every day; that he had met throughout his long, everlasting youth. I was fragile, plain, and boring. I was  _ average  _ for a human, I was most assuredly  _ nothing _ to a vampire. 

And He-

My body wracked with sobs once more, and I fought the shadows in my heart to tamp them down; was I even worthy enough to grieve so much? To feel so much loss?

It was only for hearing the doorbell chime that I dragged myself out of bed, the cold raising the hairs on my skin. I fought down the glimmer of hope that He was back- I knew He wouldn’t be, no matter how much my soul ached for it. 

No, I opened the door instead to Jessica Stanley, staring up at me resolutely, arms crossed. She had a way of making me feel so  _ small, _ even with her shorter stature.

“Bella,” She made an effort to smile- it was terse. What had I done?

“Hi, Jess.” I tried to smile back, though I could my face form more into a grimace.

“You look awful,” Jessica said pointedly, breezing past me into the living room, and my hackles raised. Before I could respond, however, she turned to face me, and said in a much gentler tone, “that’s not why I’m here though, Bella.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked, biting out the words through gritted teeth even as my heart started to thrum. It was typical that the first emotion I felt in three months aside from the devastation and overwhelming numbness was  _ anger. _

“You missed Angela’s birthday. We sent you messages on your phone, tried calling; you didn’t respond. Angie spent her birthday  _ crying _ to me that you hated her.” She glared back, eyebrow raised and mouth pinched, and my anger screeched to a stop; I did the maths in my head- last weekend  _ was _ Angela’s birthday. 

Fuck.

Guilt crashed over me, and I couldn’t help but physically recoil, stumbling over my own feet and (mercifully) onto the sofa.

“ _ Angela. _ I whispered, horrified.”

“Yep- forgot about your  _ real friends, _ for a moment there, didn’t you?” Jessica sniped, though I could see a glimmer in her eyes that told me she didn’t mean it. Completely, at least.

“I-Jess, I’m so-”

“I know.” Jessica’s ire seemed to deflate before me, being replaced by steely determination, and it struck me just how much Jessica loved Angela; loved her friends, being willing to turn up to my house and chew me out for it, rather than gossiping to Lauren and encouraging the other girl to spread rumors, as I had quickly discovered was her favorite form of revenge; Angela wasn’t the type to want gossip, and Jessica honored that. My respect for her shot upwards, even as my own guilt wrecked my heart. 

“Listen, Bells,” she sighed, sitting next to me. I turned to face her on instinct, she chewed her lip for a moment, a rare display of nervousness, before she continued. 

“I know it’s not-it’s not  _ exactly _ the same, but when I left Texas to move to Fork, it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Not only was I leaving all my friends behind, but my dad...he didn’t even  _ want me. _ ” Jessica started, and my eyes widened. I had no idea about any of this; Jessica was so loud and bold...perhaps teen self-absorbedness had skewed my idea of other people’s pain.

“I was a kid though, and I managed to shake it off fast enough, you know? I settled, and found Angela and Ben and Mike and Tyler and even Lauren, and that was enough- so my Dad didn’t want me? He was a busy guy, he had stuff to do, he couldn’t keep custody of me! When I was thirteen, me and Mom argued, like, a lot about Dad. I called him one night, I  _ begged _ him to let me move back to Texas; it was still home to me- and he-” Her voice cracked slightly, and unbidden my hand moved to hold hers, squeezing it gently. “He had a new family. He didn’t want me. My heart was ripped out again, and shattered on the floor. I thought to myself, why? Why didn’t he want me? Wasn’t I enough?” Tears dripped down Jessica’s face, and she used her free hand to scrub them away harshly. If her mascara was a little smeared, well, I didn’t need to mention it.

“I thought that it was my fault- that I wasn’t smart enough, or pretty enough, or good enough to be a part of his shiny new family. I hated myself. Like, bone deep,  _ hated _ myself. But Bella?” She looked at me with such an intense gaze I felt like gasping.

“Bella, it was  _ never _ my fault. I was  _ always _ enough. My mom and my friends made me see that. And I know that’s how you must be feeling right now. Bella, I make no secret of the fact that we haven’t always gotten on, but trust me, you are  _ worth everything, _ and if Cullen couldn’t see that, then it sucks for him. He’s not a god; not some miracle. He’s a guy, and an idiot for losing you.” My heart thrummed heavily. Jessica seemed to peer into my soul and spill out all my pain for the world to see; she recognised my pain and laid it out in a way that even Charlie, as devotedly as he still loved Renee, was unwilling to tread for fear of me shattering completely. 

Jessica wouldn’t, I could see, be afraid of my shattering. Despite that, I couldn’t help but think how wrong she was. He was  _ everything  _ to me. Not a literal God, maybe, but as close as one could get.

“Jess-”

“No, Bella. You’ve been pulling away from all of us, even before he left. You’ve not been sleeping, obviously not taking care of yourself at  _ all, _ ” her nose wrinkled, “and you missed  _ Angela’s birthday.  _ You're destroying yourself and the people who love you piece by piece for him, meanwhile he runs away and gets to go on his merry way? Hell. No. You don’t deserve that, and neither do your friends and family.” Jessica stood, then, hands on her hips, and looked me up and down critically. The tempest of emotions I had been through in the past half hour or so rose again, this time in anger, though it wasn’t directed at Jessica this time. It was directed at  _ myself. _

How could I miss Angela’s birthday? The truth of Jessica’s words hit me like a freight train. Yes,  _ He _ was gone; but I’d been breaking Charlie’s heart piece by piece, to the point where I knew he was considering calling Renee down, even though that broke his heart to do. Not to mention my friends. How often had I worried Angela to tears? Hurt Mike and Ben by not joking around? Hurt  _ Jessica _ by my snap judgements and unwillingness to participate, even in activities I didn’t take particular pleasure in?

I’d been hurting them all over and over again

“Jess...what do I do?” I asked, stumbling over the words. She smiled brightly, and I could see the same warmth that had mostly been reserved for Angela. 

“Well, first off, you’re gonna show me where the cleaning supplies are, then shower and change. I’m gonna clean your room, then you call Angela over,  _ apologise profusely, _ and we’re gonna order pizza and watch movies.” She nodded to herself, her hands leaving her hips as she seemed to form a mental checklist. “Then you can cry as much as you want; scream, hit things, get angry, get heartbroken- you’re gonna get it all out. And then we’re coming up with a plan to help you heal.” She smiled again, blue eyes sparkling and curly hair bouncing, and I couldn’t help but smile back. My heart fluttered, and for the first time since They left, I felt a small spark of happiness. 

.

I peered at myself in the mirror, really  _ looking  _ at myself for the first time in over three months, and I couldn’t help but get angry at myself again. My skin was waxy and greasy, and stretched across my bones. I hadn’t realised how much weight I’d lost until I stood naked in the bathroom, biting my lip and hands ghosting over my ribcage, which looked  _ too  _ prominent; my collarbones too sharp to be considered healthy; my chest had never been  _ huge, _ but now it was non-existent. Had I really malnourished myself so much? I looked fragile, defeated,  _ broken. _ My ire grew. No wonder Charlie had been so worried! I fought back tears of anger and instead switched the shower on as hot as it could go, waiting for it to heat up, staring at my sickly reflection disappear behind the steam before stepping in.

I had to bite back a moan as the warm stream of water fell over my skin. I forgot how good hot showers were; I loved the feeling of showering, of being clean-I luxuriated in the feeling, deciding not to worry about anything for a change, and instead just enjoy becoming clean as I lathered up, taking my time to clean every inch of my body, watching with a strange sense of wonder as water that was  _ much darker _ than it had any right to be swirled down the drain. I took a hesitant sniff of my armpit and rankled immediately. 

_ Fucking hell _ , I swore to myself rather uncharacteristically. Yep. I smelled disgusting. Jesus, had I really allowed myself to go about my days like this? Truly?

My anger raised its head once more but I shook it away, deciding to start on my hair instead. It felt brittle and greasy before; I had never thought much of anything about my hair, but feeling how thin and weak it was...maybe a haircut was in order? It had certainly gotten extremely long in my absence of care, and whilst I liked the length, it exacerbated it’s fragility more. Maybe that was something to talk about with Jessica, I resolved, lathering the conditioner through my strands and letting it sit in my hair as I went to shave myself. I had never been too fussy about things like that before, but I wanted to  _ try. _ I would never be the type of girl that loved shopping till they dropped, or blowing money on manicures and pedicures, but as I cleaned myself of the grime coating along my skin, I decided that indulging in a few of Jessica’s girly hobbies wouldn’t be so bad; wouldn’t make me more shallow or less of a feminist- it would be something we could do together with Angela; that we could bond over.

I would be willing to put up with it for Jessica and Angela.

I took my time rinsing out the conditioner before switching it off, allowing myself to drip dry slightly before stepping out and wrapping a towel around myself. I brushed my teeth next in the sink; though I had been much better at brushing my teeth than showering, even that felt like a monumental task most days; but the minty chill in my mouth felt  _ good, _ sharp and refreshing, and I felt motivated enough to even scrub at my face with one of my much-underused birthday gifts from Renee- a skincare set that surprisingly for my mother, was strawberry-scented to match my body and hair products. 

Finally finishing up, I heard a knock at the door, before Jessica’s voice broke through the wood.

“Hey, Bella. It’s just me. I’ve left a change of clothes out for you cause I realised you didn’t take anything in with you, I’ve basically finished up in your room and Angie’s gonna be here in like half an hour so take all the time you need.”

Not for the first time today, my appreciation for Jessica grew. I heard her steps retreat back into my room and opened the door, grabbing the clothing up and getting changed as quickly as possible. Thankfully, it was a comfy pair of black sweats and a grey, long-sleeved shirt and a flannel button-up, one of Charlie’s that I’d stolen pretty soon after arriving in Forks last year, it had quickly become a favourite of mine. 

I had so much making up to do, to Charlie most of all.

I revelled in the feeling of fresh, clean clothes on my body, thankful that the sweatpants had a drawstring so I could pull them tighter. I had to start eating more, I preferred oversized clothing as it was, but the way the clothes swamped me just highlighted how much I allowed myself to waste away. I shook that thought from my mind as I slipped on the fluffy socks Jessica had dug from God-Knows-Where, because I hadn’t seen the pair in months- and made my way into my room.

It was unrecognizable. 

Jessica had cleaned every inch of my room; the dirty clothes draped across the floor were gone; the bed re-made in fresh linens; the growing pile of trash from boxes of tissues and half-drunk soda cans had disappeared into the ether- the cobwebs in the corners of my box-room had vanished, too. Jessica had tidied and dusted and even  _ organised,  _ all for me. My heart swelled.

“Jess...thank you.” I whispered finally, unable to form any more words. She smiled at me from her place by my bookshelf, where she seemed to be re-organizing them. 

“Honestly, it’s no problem! Also, your books were organized like  _ shit, _ I’m rearranging them by author, alphabetically, by genre. Your clothes are in the washer and I’ve re-organized your wardrobe. I also called your dad at the station and told him we were gonna have a girlie night, he said you’d know what he means by going to Billy’s? And that if you needed him just to call.” A wave of emotion came over me, and I rather uncharacteristically flung my arms around Jess, holding her tight. I couldn’t form the words to say thank you, but it was okay. She patted my back. She understood. We stood there for a moment before she gently pushed me off, spinning me around and pointing me in the direction of the stairwell. 

“Go call Ange, okay? I’ll finish up here and be right down.”

…

Thank God, Buddha and the Universe for Angela Weber.

I had to have done something amazing in a past life to have her in this one; I called her, throat full of apologies, and she hadn’t heard a single one, brushing it off before booking it over. And now here she was, giving me a hug more comforting than my own mother’s had ever been, before pulling me towards the sofa to officially start Girl’s Night.

Three months ago, Girl’s Night would be the last thing I wanted to do. But it was exactly what I needed. We ordered pizzas, watched old horror films like Halloween and Nightmare on Elm Street (and I really did  _ not _ expect Jessica to be such a horror buff, but her rant on how much better the original Halloween was compared to the 1995 release, her arms casually draped over a frightened but fascinated Angela in comfort was both intelligent and hilarious), and when the sky was inky black, the pair’s gentle probing questions didn’t make me feel defensive or upset. 

Maybe it was just the copious amounts of garlic bread. 

.

“Bella, what happened...with you and E-...you know?” Angela asked gently, and a lance of pain struck my heart. I coughed, shifting in my seat, and swallowed heavily.

“I...they just left... _ He _ just left...and said to forget about him. He said that-he said that he didn’t love me.” I rushed out, my eyes stinging and hands shaking. 

“He fucking  _ what?”  _ Jess hissed, and my eyes shot towards hers, which were blazing bright, her hair even wilder than normal. She looked more than enraged, she looked  _ pissed off. _

Turns out that 5” teenage girls are terrifying when angry, even when the anger wasn’t directed at you.

“It’s okay, Jess...We never made sense, you know?” I tried to placate, but it seemed like the wrong response. Angela frowned at me, her mouth pinching, and she shifted to sit next to me, taking a hold of my hand. 

“Bella...what do you mean you never made sense? You looked  _ so  _ in love.”

“Please!” I cried out suddenly, “you know we never fit!  _ He’s  _ all gorgeous and perfect and I-I’m just...me.” 

“Bells, I may have been the one to tell you how gorgeous Jerkward was, but he’s not  _ perfect, _ and leaving you so-so  _ cruelly,  _ treating you like absolute crap? That’s far from perfect.” Jess said, standing with her hands on her hips. I shrunk under her gaze, my head bowing, but Angela gently lifted up my chin again.

“Bella, you’re  _ amazing, _ and if he couldn’t see that then it’s on him. You deserve more than that. He’s no angel, sweetie,” Angela smiled softly at me. My heart fluttered with warmth. 

“Bella, I think you really need to think about talking to a professional.” Jessica sat on my other side and took hold of my other hand, squeezing it softly. 

“His leaving has destroyed you, and I’m sorry, but we’re not gonna allow you to kill yourself in your grief. I started seeing somebody in Seattle after...you know. I’ll get you her number. But you need to  _ try  _ to get out of this pit. Please? We love you, and we don’t want to see you become a ghost in front of our very eyes. Charlie doesn’t deserve that, we don’t deserve that, but most importantly,  _ you _ don’t deserve that, Isabella Swan.” 

“I don’t know…”

“One session?” Angela pleaded with me, her eyes looking even larger under her glasses frames. “Please? Tell Charlie and go to one session. If you don’t like it then we’ll think of something else, okay?” 

In the end, looking at Angela’s shining eyes, I couldn’t help but agree.

***

The walls of the waiting room were a soft yellow; the couches, though worn down were comfortable, and the warm, round-faced receptionist greeted me with a smile.

“I have an appointment for one-fifteen?” I said, hating how it came out as more of a question. I cleared my throat and told her my name, stuttering the syllables out weakly.

“Oh, with Dr Miller! She’s wonderful; she’ll be ready in a few minutes if you’d like to take a seat there, doll.” The receptionist beamed as she waved me off, the bright pink of her lipstick edging its way onto her teeth, her sharp nails clacking along the keyboard.

One appointment, I just needed to sit through one appointment.

Charlie had been pleasantly surprised when I asked him about therapy; the relief swimming in his eyes had caused my heart to sting again. Jessica had given me the information for her therapist’s office.

I don’t know why, when Dr Miller, a middle-aged woman with dark skin and eyes and taut braids poked her head around the door and called me to follow her to the office, my heart began to thrum erratically. 

It was still pounding when she shook my hand and guided me to the chair- not one of those long, psychodrama chairs, but a large plush red chair, cotton, with one of the largest cushions I had ever seen.

“So, Isabella-do you mind Isabella, or prefer something different?” She asked me, settling into her own chair (purple) angled towards me. There was a desk in the corner, but the way we sat, I could easily have been talking to a friend in a coffee shop instead.

“Um- Bella, please.” She nodded.

“Okay then, Bella. I’m Dr Miller, though you can call me Meredith, okay? This first session is really just an hour for us to evaluate what’s going on in your life at the moment, perhaps come up with a few strategies to help remedy some of your problems-such as your sleeping that you mentioned in the call- and start to create an action plan of how we’re gonna get to the route of what’s troubling you.” I nodded blankly, and Meredith smiled softly.

“If you need a break at any moment, just tell me. If you want to talk about something different to what’s in our action plan, you can do. You’ve taken the first step, Bella. I’m here to help you take the next one, and the one after that. At your own pace, in your own time, in a space where you feel safe, okay?” I nodded in response, and she leaned down, reaching into her bag to pull out a notebook and pen, affixing elegant black glasses onto her nose, before smiling at me again. She was very smiley.

“What made you take the step to seeking therapy?”

***

Maybe it was the way she smiled; all warm and non-judgmentally, even as her eyes roamed my clearly diminished body and dark circles. 

Maybe it was just the dam, finally breaking under the pressure after eight weeks of regularly scheduled appointments three times a week with Dr Miller. Eight weeks, twenty-four two-hour appointments where we discussed my nightmares, my appetite, my relationship with my friends and Charlie, even my _ mother _ and leaving Phoenix. Each week carefully skirting around the edges of  _ Him _ .

I couldn’t hold back anymore, however. A night full of screaming nightmares and a day full of feeling broken down and cold and  _ empty. _

I told her everything. 

Well, vampires aside. 

I had never talked so much to another person before; let alone about my own thoughts and feelings. But I started telling her about my break up with Him, being left in the forest, my nightmares; it flooded the room and kept on going and when I finished I was heaving, thick tracks of tears burning into my cheeks and breath ragged.

“I just feel  _ weak _ and  _ fragile  _ and broken. I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel-”

“Dead?” Meredith completed, and a sob tore from my throat as I nodded.

“How did you feel when you were with your ex?”

I thought for a moment.

“Small, delicate maybe. Graceless. Average. Imperfect.  _ He _ and His whole family were perfect in every way; talented and strong...graceful and beautiful...I’m nothing special, not in comparison to them.” I whispered.

“I just felt lucky that He noticed  _ me,  _ of all people.”

“Did you like feeling that way?” Meredith asked me. It took me by surprise. I  _ love  _ E- _ Him. _ Of course I liked being with Him, I loved- _ love _ Him. 

Something in the back of my mind whispered back to me, however, and the words came tumbling from my lips, once again unbidden.

“I liked  _ loving _ Him...I think I liked feeling loved...but I always thought He’d look at me one day and realise how worthless I am, and leave...and He did! But…”

“But?” 

“...But I don’t like how fragile I felt- how fragile I  _ feel. _ I don’t feel alive anymore...but I did, once…”

“Before ‘him’?”

“...Yeah.”

“Think of it like this, Bella. Your relationship is dead, and so are you.” Meredith said suddenly, her words lancing through me and I gasped. How could she say that? She continued on.

“The version of you that felt worthless, small,  _ fragile, _ she’s dead. That’s what you’re feeling. You’re not just grieving the loss of your relationship, but you lost yourself  _ in _ the relationship.” My throat choked up.

“You killed off the parts of yourself that were  _ yours _ , to become his, to become so wrapped up in him that you didn’t notice the individual dying. And when the relationship ended, you had to grieve not only the relationship, but the girl that died with it. The girl that you  _ became, and _ the girl that you killed to become his. It’s okay to grieve that, Bella.” She leant forward, handing me a tissue which I grabbed feebly, haphazardly wiping at my eyes.

“Who am I now, then?”

“That’s for you to decide, Bella.”

“I...I didn’t really like the girl I was before...but I don’t-I don’t want to be the girl I was  _ during. _ What’s left after that?”

“Bella…Grief is not a fragile thing. But neither are  _ you.  _ You don’t have to know who you’re going to be right away; most people my age don’t know who they  _ want  _ to be, let alone who they have been- but the first step to finding out is to grieve. Let yourself grieve those girls that you were, and don’t hate them, but  _ love them. _ Love them fiercely, thank them for bringing you to this point, and then  _ let them go. _ ”

“It’s that simple, huh?”

“Not necessarily, but taking it one step at a time gets you further than never going at all.”

***

I sat at the computer desk. My mind had been reeling since therapy.

At the end of the session, Meredith had given me tasks to complete before our next session on Monday. To write goodbye letters.

One to the Bella of Phoenix, who lived in the heat and grew up too fast taking care of Renee. One to the Bella of Forks, the one who fell for a vampire and almost died from another, who was left broken and defeated in the woods. 

To write a letter thanking them, loving them.

To let them go.

I sat at the desk for several beats, hands gliding over the keys, going to type only to hesitate, before I finally began to write.

At our next session, Meredith asked me how I felt, now I had written those letters.

“Better...not perfect, but better. Do you want me to read them out loud?” I asked, taking them from my satchel. 

“What do  _ you _ want to do with them?” She asked. I thought for a moment.

“I want to burn them.” I stated. I wanted to let them go, truly and forever.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Meredith stood up in one fluid motion, smoothing down her dress and grabbing her own bag.

“Now?” I asked, surprised. I grabbed my bag, stuffing the letters back inside, and followed her hastily out of the office.

Meredith led me outside to a small courtyard behind the building; a smoker’s canopy rested near one of the emergency exits, the rest of the courtyard filled with benches and bushes that really needed trimming. Despite that, I figured it would be a nice place to take a moment when it was sunny, and the bushes and flowers were in full bloom. A few metal bins were interspersed throughout, and it was to one of these bins (blessedly empty) that Meredith guided me to. She fished around in her bag for a moment before withdrawing a bright red lighter. 

“Bad habit,” she winked cheekily at me, and I couldn’t help but grin back. She handed me the letter and stepped backwards.

“In your own time.”

I withdrew the first letter from my satchel. The one to Phoenix Bella, the child and young woman I was before Forks. Before  _ Him. _ I opened the envelope up, reading the words again. I lit the envelope on fire, dropping it into the metal bin, pages quickly following behind it.

_ Dear Bella of Phoenix. _

_ It wasn’t fair. You should not have had to be an adult for Renee.  _

_ You were made to grow up too fast; to learn how to wash your own clothes and cook your own meals and be your own support at the science fair.  _

_ That’s what your mother should have done, and I’m so sorry that she didn’t. _

_ I’m sorry that you felt like a burden to the woman that carried you inside her; that you felt that you had to kiss your own grazed knees. _

_ I’m sorry that playing felt like a foreign concept, like something that happened during your summers at Charlie’s. _

_ I’m sorry that you didn’t have time for your own hobbies or interests because you had to get a paper round and do the shopping and chores and cook for Renee so the house didn’t burn down. _

_ I’m sorry that she decided to keep on wandering, and that you felt like a burden for wanting to stay in Phoenix. _

_ I love you. I love how determined you were to help out; how when Jeannie Meyers broke her ankle in fourth grade you sat with her and held her hand in the nurses’ before she went to hospital because you remember breaking your wrist and waiting three hours in the waiting room after your cast for Renee to pick you up; how scary it felt to be alone getting x-rayed, and how you didn’t want her to wait alone. _

_ I love you, for the way you loved ballet, even though you were awful at it, before Renee started clucking her tongue as you stumbled against the barre you fitted in your room on your own until you hated it. I love you for the way you loved the sun, for the days that you spent in the library reading everything you could, for the day that you accidentally got locked out of the home after school and instead of crying, even though you wanted to, you instead figured out how to clamber onto the garage roof and push open your window, even if you almost fell off several times. I love you for everything that you were, and for all that you taught me; to never give up, to soak in every little bit of joy when it came your way; to rely on yourself and to be independent. _

_ I’m sorry that you felt it easier to abandon the sun you love, the life you enjoyed, for the sake of another. But I love how selfless and willing you were to do so. You taught me to be selfless, but also be self-reliant.  _

_ I love you, and now I am saying Goodbye. _

_ Bella. _

_ “I love you, and now I am saying goodbye.”  _ I whispered to myself, before taking the next letter. Forks Bella.  _ His  _ Bella.

_ Dear Forks Bella, _

_ I am sorry. I am sorry that your whole life had been uprooted in a moment. I am sorry that you lost yourself in  _ Him _ , and then lost Him all the same. I am sorry that you never felt good enough; that you felt weak and stupid and clumsy and unimportant. I am sorry that you lost your independence, that I killed the girl that needed nobody to look after her to become you, to feel what you thought was love even though it wasn’t truly returned. I am sorry that I killed the girl before, and I am sorry that when He left, you died too. I am sorry that you never felt like you were worth more than the love you were getting. I am sorry that you broke all your boundaries for another person. I am sorry that you were treated so horribly by somebody who was supposed to love you. I am sorry that you feel dead without him, that you were so starved for love that you let yourself get drowned in saccharine lies. I am sorry for conflating love with the idea of love. For thinking that obsession was adoration, and compliments were the same as honesty. _

_ I am sorry for all those things. _

_ But I love you. _

_ Not in spite of those things, but because of them. _

_ I love how unafraid you were; how readily you fell in love with what many might deem a monster; how unafraid you were to love the Cullens completely and entirely, despite how small you felt in comparison. I love how unafraid you were to face James at the risk of your own life just because you believed that Renee was in danger. I love you for how much you allowed yourself to love. I love you for every question you searched answers for, how you wouldn’t accept anybody’s half-truths and lies. How you loved  _ love _ and how much you were willing to sacrifice for others; for Renee, the Cullens. I love how you loved Charlie, and Jacob, and how you looked Him...Edward...in the eyes and tell Him that you were unafraid to love him too; even if he felt damned, even if he felt like he could kill you at any moment; maybe it was foolish, but you dived into love and didn’t look back, and I love how open you were to that. _

_ From you, I learnt that boundaries are important and should be respected. I learnt that feeling love and being loved are two different things; but despite that, despite the pain you feel right now, to not be afraid to love. To keep giving it, freely. To give love not to be loved, but for the act of loving another; to show my love for my friends, for Charlie. To love the Cullens despite their leaving. You have taught me that you were always worth them, worth Him, even if you didn’t think it; that to be human is not to be fragile, it is to face death every day and still love in spite of it.  _

_ Bella of Forks, you were not treated with kindness.  _ I _ have not treated you with kindness.  _

_ For that I am sorry. _

_ For the fact that you kept on going anyway, I love you. _

_ I love you, and now I am saying Goodbye. _

_ Bella. _

I dropped the second letter page by page into the small bonfire, taking the last letter out. 

I hadn’t been asked to write this letter, and it was smaller than the others, not all of my feelings were able to be accurately put on paper, and most of it felt like a jumbled mess of incoherent babbling, but I hadn’t been able to stop once I started. 

My hands shook as I took out the pages and dropped the envelope in, and I watched the orange flames engulf the letters of the name one by one.

_ Dear Edward, _

_ I still don’t know why you left. I think perhaps it is true when you said you didn’t love me. _

_ I don’t think what we had was love, but more what we  _ thought _ was love. _

_ Perhaps we were doomed from the start. _

_ I am sorry that you believed I wasn’t enough for you. I am sorry for losing myself in you, and for killing myself in the process. I am sorry that you misconstrued your obsession for my quiet mind and blood for love, for attraction. I am sorry that losing you caused me to lose the Cullens. _

_ But I am not sorry for seeking you out; I am not sorry for getting answers, for not letting things go. I am not sorry for not seeing you as the monster you so desperately wanted me to- for not seeing all of you as monster’s despite Jasper’s bloodlust on my birthday. _

_ I am not sorry for any of that. _

_ I am not sorry for what you taught me about love; about obsession, About infatuation and about co-dependency. _

_ I was never fragile or weak or worthless, but I felt that way around you. I am not sorry for admitting that, if only to myself. _

_ I am not sorry for loving you, or at least feeling what I thought was love for you. I am not sorry for diving right into love, despite you breaking me so completely when you left. _

_ I am not sorry that I still love you, in some way. _

_ Maybe I did love you, truly; perhaps your love was just more fragile than mine. _

_ You have taught me so much about myself, about my desires, about my strengths and weaknesses. By breaking me you have shown me how much more I can be. _

_ I am not sorry that I want to be more than I was. _

_ I am not sorry that I loved the people I were anyway. _

_ Edward Cullen, I loved you. Perhaps a part of me always will. _

_ But I am not sorry for wanting to be alive again. _

_ I loved you, Edward. And now I am letting you go. _

_ Goodbye, _

_ Bella. _

I tossed the last page into the flames and inhaled deeply.

I exhaled, and I let them go.


	2. In which Charlie is soft <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress isn't linear. Medication is prescribed. Charlie is soft, and Bella's wounds are cauterized.

Progress was not linear, despite the fact that everything would be easier if it was. 

Sometimes, I could go days without thinking of him-I could laugh with Jessica and Angela, I could sleep without waking Charlie; I could even bring myself to say the rest of the Cullens’ names with ease. But not his. 

The gaping wound in my chest was cauterized-not healed.

When I felt like I’d taken a step forward, a nightmare would shake me to my core- I could hear his voice whispering in the back of my mind-and I would take three steps backwards and I would be back to screaming at night and numb during the day.

Meredith said that was okay. It was to be expected, and that she would help me learn how to manage it. That progress was still progress; approaching the hurdle and falling over is okay, because I still tried to jump. 

Meredith had me keep a dream journal; to mark down the days when I had a dream I could remember, when I couldn’t. To write down what happened in the dreams, how it made me feel. 

At the end of one of our regular sessions, she asked me to bring Charlie next time. 

Sure enough, the week after, we sat in the chairs facing her desk. I could see the slip of prescription paper beside her. That was a first.

“Mr Swan, Bella,” Meredith said, notebook in hand, her hands racing ink across the pages.

“I’m advising that Bella start taking medication for her nightmares.”

“What?” Charlie asked, raising his eyebrows in shock.

“From our sessions and Bella’s dream journal, it is my professional opinion that the traumatic events that have happened to her- from the sudden dissolution of her relationship to her trouble last year in Arizona-” She raised an eyebrow at him. I don’t think she believed that my injuries were the fault of clumsiness as I had told her. “-Well, long story short Bella has I believe, an acute case of PTSD, of which her nightmares are a prevalent system.”

I swallowed thickly.

“I’ll be writing a prescription for Prasozin to treat the nightmares- it may not be a cure-all, but it will get the ball rolling. I’ll only be starting you on a low dose, so that we can see how it works for you, Bella.” Meredith’s eyes slid towards me. 

A year ago, if somebody had told me to take medication, I wouldn’t have. I would have ranted about wanting to “feel like myself” no matter what. I had heard the same rant from Renee several times as a child. I could remember the way she talked about Loey Brown’s mother down the road and how she took medication, her voice full of disdain as she talked to Chloe Carter’s mother on the phone about it. She had ranted and raved about how medications changed people and made them lose themselves. I heard from my seat at the kitchen table, doing my homework and trying to quell my rapid beating heart- terrified that I wouldn’t be me if I ever needed medication.

Flu jabs that year were...eventful.

I think Meredith could sense my hesitance 

“Bella, taking medication for your problems, when properly prescribed by a doctor, is not a bad thing. It’s not going to take anything away from you. It’s not going to stop you from being yourself. It’s going to allow you to be yourself more, because you will be properly rested and energized in the morning.” She smiled softly. She did that often. Each time it left my heart feeling warm and heavy with a fullness I’d never really felt before, except perhaps when Charlie had gotten me my truck.

“Bells, if this will help, I think we should give it a go, yeah? And if it’s not for you, then we can look somewhere else.” Charlie turned towards me, and I had never felt so strongly the urge to hug him, either. I could see the bags under his eyes- the pain lurking beneath the surface- the graying at his temples that seemed much more prominent than when I arrived in Forks for the first time.

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “I’ll try it.”

“Brilliant!” Meredith beamed, closing her notebook. “Now, I’m sure you both have questions about it; ask away.”

So we did.

*

Meredith answered all our questions; mine, about what it was supposed to do, how it was supposed to help. I wanted all the science-y jargon written down so I could look it up and understand it more and digest it in my own time. Charlie asked the more pertinent questions, such as dosage, and possible side-effects, and if it was covered by his insurance. (It was.) Thirty minutes later and a trip to the pharmacy, I had a paper bag of meds in my hands. Renee’s voice rang in my mind, and my eyes moved to Charlie as he opened the driver’s door to the truck, thankful not for the first time that I had insisted on not taking the cruiser.

I slid into the passenger seat, but Charlie didn’t start the car. I looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. He stared ahead for a long while; he had a glazed look in his eyes, like his mind was somewhere else. Then they snapped to me; it was taken aback by the strong, warm look in brown eyes that matched mine. 

“Bells,” He choked out, finally. I could see his knuckles grow white on the steering wheel.

“I know I haven’t been the most present in your life-I know that-”

“Dad-”

“You don’t need to sugarcoat it for me, Bella.” Charlie cut me off, heaving a thick sigh and twisting in his seat to face me fully. I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to as I saw tear tracks carve slowly into his cheeks.

“Bella, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there more when you were growing up. And I’m so sorry I didn’t take action sooner when I noticed how lost you were becoming in that Boy.” My heart clenched. I wanted to- I wasn’t sure. Reach out? Hold his hand? 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t get you the help you needed the second Sam Uley found you in the woods. Bella- you feel everything, so intensely. Even if you don’t show it. It reminds me of myself, and it scares me.”

I couldn’t help but gasp softly, my throat tightening. Charlie had never been big on emotions, I thought. Then again, I didn’t think he’d ever tell me something like this.

Did I ever really know him at all?

“When Renee took you and left for Arizona...it shattered me, completely. I became a ghost of myself, Bells. I drank...a lot, and it took almost losing my job and nearly dying in a car crash to pull myself out of it.” My heart hammered.

Charlie? In a crash? Drinking? I couldn’t fathom a world where Charlie wasn’t in Forks, _breathing_ and burning pasta and smiling brusquely and fishing. I didn’t _want_ to fathom it.

“I-I didn’t-” I tried to stutter out.

“I didn’t think your mom would tell you. I don’t even know if she knows. Billy just about beat the shit out of me after I recovered and got me through it.” I felt sick.

My dad could have  _ died, _ and I might never have known him.

“Point is, Bells. I was terrified of seeing it happen to you and I think I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the same thing-that cause you’re a kid that it didn’t hurt you so much. I think I was so scared of losing you that I almost did, and I want to thank your friends every day for doing what Billy did for me.” Charlie smiled tremulously. I couldn’t return it. This was the most I had ever heard him say in one sitting, and he wanted me to  _ smile? _

He almost  _ died. _

I had the sudden, sickening wave of realization that Charlie was a cop; that his job was dangerous. That guns were involved. That Forks wasn’t small, but not so small that it was danger-less. 

“Dad- we’ll be even if you become a Park Ranger or something, instead.” He chuckled bemusedly. I wasn’t kidding, though. 

“Bells-what I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to discount how much you must be hurting right now. You feel as intensely as I ever did, and I know how dangerous that can be. But I’m here, and if you’re okay with your old man hanging around a little bit more, confiding in me when you need to...I’m always gonna be in your corner, okay? No conditions, no limitations.”

“Dad…” I couldn’t form the words. I couldn’t speak. I just flung myself forward into an awkward embrace.

Despite the fact that the gear-stick dug into my ribs, or I could feel Charlie’s beard scratching at my forehead, I could feel warmth radiating every pore of my body. I felt lighter, but supported. 

“I love you, Dad.” I whispered, sniffling. 

“I love you too, Bella-bird.” He whispered back. If his voice was thick too, I pretended not to notice, the old nickname from youth fluttering against my heart, soothing the cauterized edges of my heart.

“Will you  _ please, _ please get a safer job?” His ribs shook as he chuckled, the low noise settling into my brain.

“I’ll see, Bells, okay?”

“Okay.”


	3. DILFs and Diatribes

The meadow was empty. Flowers and grass wilted away and the dirt turned to mud with the rain; a sharp inhale of my lungs caught the distinct iron tang of blood on the wind.

My throat burned and my head turned to seek out the source of my temptations.

There was a howling in the distance. Just the wind, nothing more and nothing less.

A body- feeble, broken and frail on the ground, panting futilely as they dragged themselves through the mud, clawing with pale hands as their legs, so mangled and broken couldn’t hold them up.

Pathetic.

_“Stop! Please!”_

Where did that come from?

No matter. 

I shook the strange, foreign shouts away. The creature was on their back now, and I could feel their racing pulse under the smooth expanse of creamy exposed neck.

Delicious.

The howling of the wind was louder now. Perhaps it would rain soon. 

Something felt strangely familiar about the stranger on the ground; maybe it was the way they struggled with aching breaths; maybe it was their eyes as I came upon them, brown and wide and shining with unadulterated fear.

I ran a hand through thick red curls- I didn’t want to get them dirty- even as I stalked forward,

_“Bella.”_

My head jerked to the side, listening again for the voice, but I disregarded it again. I didn’t know Bella, did I?

There was something familiar about that, however the ache in my throat could no longer be ignored. 

I could feel red tinge my vision as I grabbed the girl’s arm and lifted it up, dislocating it in the process. I savored the sweet sounds of her screaming, licking my lips and dragging my tongue over her veins. 

Such sweet sustenance. 

Suddenly I was flung forward; my body crashed into the ground, cratering the earth around me on impact. Mud caked in my eyes, I sprung forward, searching wildly for the source.

Brown eyes and jagged teeth sprang in front of me.

And then I was running.

A cacophony of whispers filled my head. Growling and snarling and biting their way at me, though I couldn’t place anything distinct. Just noises, though the tenor sounded familiar to me. Perhaps I’d heard it on the radio before?

Green and brown danced at the edges of my vision as I made chase, seeing flashes of curling red fire shoot out in front of me, jumping around the treeline as I tried my hardest to catch up. The running was easy, I was moving fast, my four legs aching as I surged onward, following the sickening sweet smell that trailed from the not-fire. 

_“Bella.”_

The name sounded more familiar to me, though it wasn’t my own- what was my name? I couldn’t quite place it. 

A growl tore my throat as I jumped over the fallen trees and sunk my claws into uneven turf, and I briefly caught a glimpse of the fire to the left of my vision- I peeled off quick, ignoring the shouting incoherent babble ringing in my ears.

I needed to find the fire. I needed to kill it.

How does one kill a fire?

I wasn’t sure, even as my heart shouted at me to rip, tear, bite away at it.

Wouldn’t I get burned?

I didn’t think I much cared about that one way or another.

 _“Stop,”_ the voice I’d heard whispered again. It lanced me through the chest, even though I couldn’t put a face to it’s owner. I wanted to run, to follow the fire, to catch the source and kill it.

I didn’t need to stop for any strange spirits haunting my head-space.

I could hear the voices in my head again; I could feel the heat radiating behind me and sense the paws breaking ground in my path, having caught up steadily.

The fire still danced ahead.

A growl tore from my throat and I launched myself forward over a fallen log. 

The wind had changed.

No longer could I smell the sugary trail of fire, but I could smell it everywhere.

I skidded to a halt. 

_“It’s not safe.”_ The voice whispered again, molten voice curling in my eardrums even as my hackles raised with the statement that sounded more like a command.

And then the fire was in front of me.

Only it wasn’t a fire at all.

It was read eyes and bloody hands and red curls and-

I woke up gasping in the darkness of my room. My body was drenched with sweat, and my shaking hand scrambled to the bedside table to flick on the light of my lamp, my eyes squinting at the sudden illumination even though I’d been more than prepared for it.

I chanced a glance at my alarm clock; 5; 32 am. 

Not a bad time to wake up, considering. 

I padded blearily into the bathroom, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Charlie, who was still fast asleep judging by the snores I could hear emanating from his room. 

My shower woke me up fast enough, sloughing off the slickness of the nightmare I had suffered, and helped to alleviate the cotton-headed-ness I’d felt upon waking up. 

Being on Prazosin was...different. It worked, most of the time. Hell, I’d gotten more sleep in those past three weeks than I had since the Cullens left. But it was not without its side effects. The first time I had it I slept through the night and only woke up at four in the afternoon, bleary eyed and head-achy. 

Jess had been by to drop off my homework. She was a good friend. I knew to expect possible side effects from my talk with Meredith, but I hadn’t quite expected how hard they’d hit- perhaps naively of me I assumed I would be one of the lucky ones to skip the occasional bouts of dizziness and sudden drowsiness that left me taking a lot of post-school naps.

But as the medication worked its way through my system and my body got used to it, thankfully it seemed to lessen; I had more energy throughout the day, and not waking up every night screaming allowed Charlie some peace, too.

But that didn’t mean the nightmares stopped altogether. Like tonight. They were different, though- not the startlingly clear nightmares that used to happen; the ones that felt so real I couldn’t tell what was fact or fiction; these nightmares were more like flashes and whispers in the night, strange not-quite-disconnected images that I couldn’t make sense of, but left me waking up in a cold sweat on high alert; unable to get back to bed and head aching.

It was better than screaming, however, so I figured it was fine. 

Wrapping a toweling robe around my frame I headed back to my room, cracking open my dream journal to write down exactly what happened, though it didn’t make much sense to me. 

It felt like it should.

It felt like my brain was screaming and scratching at me, yelling “this is what it means, stupid!” but I still couldn’t figure out what it meant. 

I was one thing, then another. 

I figured the first being was a vampire; from the hunger in my throat at the idea of blood, to the speed with which I ran.

The curls were familiar too...the strange red fire... 

But it was blurred around the edges; like the identity of the vampire I was inhabiting was censored, as if to say I couldn’t watch anything over a PG-13 rating. 

And the second one…

I had no idea what to make of that. 

What was I?

I couldn’t make out the strange litany of voices, either. I could pick out vague murmurs or tones, but nothing coherent. I just knew that some of the voices sounded familiar.

And one, clearer than the rest. His voice, loud and clear. 

My hand clenched around my pen as I wrote it down, nib digging into the paper and scraping across the page harshly.

Even in my dreams, he was trying to-to control me!

I took a deep breath, counting down slowly from ten.

I tried not to get angry at the possible meaning of that and instead decided to get a head start on breakfast, especially as it was Charlie’s first day at his new job.

As a park ranger.

Thank. Fuck. 

I made no secret of the fact that I was pleased of it, and I think Charlie was secretly pleased to take a job that got him outside in the woods more; he’d always liked hiking, and now he dealt less with crime and more with nature. He had (surprisingly) gotten his degree in conservation, so he was more than qualified. I’d been shocked when I found out he had the qualifications for it, much more than knowing he’d gotten the job.

He was lucky, too; from his experience on the force to his reputation in Forks he managed to pull a better than average wage and a bunch more benefits that hadn’t even been available to him as Sheriff, and he’d be pulling all his years’ experience on the force to deal with the types of basic law enforcement that comes with small-time teenagers with nothing to do, and nearby forests. 

Much to Charlie’s chagrin, I had become self-admittedly overzealous in his general well-being and safety after learning of his _near death,_ and had put him on a healthy diet. No more diner dinners, no more takeout, no more red-meat feasts. I’d gone to Port Angeles with Angela to pick up several healthy cookbooks, from vegetarian dishes to low-carb meals, ignoring his every wistful glance at fried fish and pleading eyes. I had even decided to stop the long years of pasta-mush, teaching him how to cook one dinner at a time.

The first time he made pasta without absolutely solidifying it, I thought I might cry.

Was that how parents felt when their kid learnt to ride a bike?

Breakfast for his first day however called for a treat, so I conceded. I knew he favored the McMuffins from McDonalds on his super-early shifts, and whilst I wouldn’t be supporting an overall indulgence, I did decide that his first day was reason enough to make my own versions. I had bought some English muffins from the store (my complete lack of experience in bread-making not wanting to be exposed so soon) and got to work with the sausage meat and eggs. 

Indeed, by the time Charlie stumbled downstairs I’d shuffled him into his chair, plated up two of the sandwiches and a mug of black coffee and handed him the newspaper.

He smiled fondly, and I watched as he took the first bite, biting my lip and wringing my wrists.

He chewed slowly, not giving anything away. He said nothing; just took a long pull from the coffee.

“Dad!” I cried out finally. “C’mon! Tell me, are they any good?”

He burst into loud guffaws, louder than I’d ever heard him laugh, and he picked up his bitten-into muffin.

“Bells, they’re the best breakfast I’ve had in forever! I might have to ask you to make more.” My cheeks heated. Charlie had become a lot more open in his affection and praise, despite how difficult it was for him to verbalize his feelings. It meant a lot to me that he could freely compliment my cooking.

“I had extra, so I wrapped them up in parchment paper and packaged them in the freezer with instructions on how to cook them in the toaster oven. Just in case.” 

“You driving to school today or getting picked up?”

“Driving, today. I’m picking Jess and Angela up today, I’ll be going in just a moment.”

“Got your homework done?” Charlie asked. I rolled my eyes, but I think the overall effect was lessened by the smile playing at the edge of my lips.

“All done, my bag was packed before bed last night. I’ve already had breakfast. I just wanted to see if you liked the food.”

“I really did, Bells.” Charlie’s expression darkened for a second as a frown pulled at his lips.

“Any nightmares last night?” I fought my instinct to lie and shrug it off. I sighed instead, nodding my head.

Honesty was important.

“Yeah, but it was more confusing than anything. Nothing clear. I’ll talk to Meredith about it in our next section.” Charlie’s cheeks reddened and he nodded swiftly.

“Good. Yes. Meredith. Next session.” 

Weird.

“Dad, you okay?” He coughed around a pull of coffee.

“Y-yeah! Yeah, Bells. I’m okay. Shouldn’t you be heading to Jess’ about now?” Curioser and curioser. I pushed it to the back of my mind for now.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you later, Dad.” I grabbed my coat and bag from where it was waiting on my chair, leaning down to give Charlie a quick hug goodbye.

Affection had increased between us, too. A natural and only slightly-awkward consequence of our conversation in my truck. 

It wasn’t unwelcome at all, however.

“Lasagne tonight?” Charlie called as I made my way to the door.

“Turkey Lasagne!” I called back, chuckling as I heard his begrudging groan and shut the door behind me. 

***

Jess and Angela were squished into my truck as we made our way to school, and I told them about the weird ending to my conversation with Charlie. Jess giggled, and Angela’s cheeks were glowing pink.

“What?” I asked, and Jessica rolled her eyes at me. 

“Charlie’s got a crush on your therapist.” Angela stated.

_What?!_

“What?” I shouted out, being the only word I could form. Jessica laughed loudly at me, her curls swinging around her head.

“Bells, he’s _totally_ into your therapist! Definitely has the hots for her.”

Jess’s words ran around my head.

“Holy shit.” I whispered dumbly. Angela nodded sagely, leaning over Jess to pat my shoulder with her hand in camaraderie.

“I’m sorry honey, Jess is right. But hey, at least while you’re her patient it can’t go anywhere, so silver lining?”

“I-” I had no words to fully describe how absolutely shaken I was. “-I didn’t think Charlie _could_ get crushes.” Jessica snorted.

“Bella, Charlie is not just your dad, but he’s also a _guy._ He had to have crushes enough to have you after all, sweetie.”

“Ew! Jess-I-that’s gross! That’s my dad!” I hissed, my face scrunched up in disgust.

That was my _dad,_ I didn’t need to hear that sort of stuff. Forks High School was fast approaching. I couldn’t wait to be out of the truck. I did _not_ want to hear about this

It was Angela that laughed this time.

“Bella, it’s perfectly natural!”

“It’s my _dad,_ It’d be just as bad if somebody told me they had a crush on him.”

Jessica and Angela both laughed at one point, and as I slid into a parking spot. I cut the engine off suddenly; I was prepared for the sudden lurch, but by Angela and Jess’s surprised shrieks, they weren’t.

Small revenge, but satisfying nonetheless.

“Bella.” Jessica huffed, running a hand through her hair. “Your dad is _hot._ ”

“Um fucking EXCUSE ME?” I cried out, twisting to glare at her. Angela, cheeks still red, agreed. 

“Bella, honey, he’s your dad. Of course you don’t think he’s hot. But the rest of Forks have eyes, you know? Your dad is a very attractive man.”

“Attractive, Angela? Dude, he’s _hot._ My mom crushes on him, _your Mom_ crushes on him, half the town crushes on him!” 

“I-” 

I was broken.

My brain was utterly broken.

I would simply have to move to a cave and live out the rest of my days in sweet solitude.

“I wish I had never heard this.” I muttered. I grabbed my bag from the dashboard and slung it over my shoulder, slamming the door of my Chevy shut as I tried to ignore the _cackling_ coming from Jess and Angela, and made my way to Mike, Tyler and Eric as fast as I could.

“What’re those two laughing about?” Eric asked. I resisted the urge to stomp my foot.

“Not important.” Mike’s eyes widened and Tyler laughed at me.

“Okay cranky pants, what’d they say?” Tyler crossed his arms in front of him and this time I couldn’t tamp down the _hmph_ of anger.

“They’re picking on me.” I grumbled, and Mike patted my shoulder consolingly whilst the others spared a sympathetic but curious glance. They’d all be on the end of Jessica’s razor sharp barbs before, though I suppose Angela joining in is what raised the eyebrows; if Angela was teasing you, there had to be a reason for it. I could sense them coming up behind me, so I extricated myself from their _horrifying_ joking as quick as I could, murmuring my goodbyes to the others before heading to the only class I had on my own and, blessedly, the first class of they day and a double period with which they couldn’t make any more mortifying statements.

I would never live this down, and I’d never be able to look at Charlie talking with...anybody, the same way ever again.

Yeugh.

English Language provided a brief and blessed reprieve, and I had almost managed to push the morning’s...conversation out of my mind as I headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

I forgot enough about it to not understand the glances from my friends as I sat down, lunch tray in hands. 

“So, Bella,” Eric said, biting into his sandwich. 

“Yeah?” I replied, moving to snag a french fry off my plate.

“How’s your dad’s first day going do you think?” I thought for a moment around chewing, then shrugged.

“I don’t know...I’ll have to ask him later. Why?” I asked, curious. None of them had ever asked about Charlie before. Why now? I grabbed my water, unscrewing the cap to take a deep pull.

Sometimes, the universe is kind and everything goes your way.

Sometimes, I learnt, the universe just wanted to shove you down and laugh.

“Cause he’s a major DILF Bella, duh.” 

I choked on my drink.

“MIKE!? The _fuck?”_ I hissed even as the table erupted into laughter. I spun to Jess and Angela.

“You guys! I can’t believe- what _the hell?”_ My cheeks flushed deeply and I glared at the two, practically collapsed on one another, Angela’s face turned bright purple as she tried to get herself under control. Jessica was holding her ribs. As for the guys? They were laughing so hard that it, much to my utter _horror,_ grabbed the attention of the other students around us.

Earth, swallow me whole.

“What’re the clown squad giggling about?” Lauren’s voice cut through me with acidity.

“Nothing-” I rushed to respond, but Eric, laughing over his words, beat me to the punch.

“We’re just laughing cause...Mr Swan...He’s-well, you know-”

“Know what?” Lauren said, shoving Tyler to the side to slide into her seat. Tyler was apparently, and judging by the way Mike quickly quietened and rolled his eyes, Lauren’s boy of the week.

“Mr Swan is hot, Lauren.” Jessica interrupted quickly. It felt strange to me, the tone she used. Usually Jessica simpered to Lauren, but today she seemed inpatient, and almost...patronizing?

Judging by the way Lauren’s nostrils flared, she shared the same feelings.

“Well, he is. Mom thinks he’s hot too.” Lauren looked over at me and grinned. It wasn’t the same friendly teasing as the others, which now the atmosphere had rapidly chilled over, I suddenly missed more than anything. “Shame that your mom left though, made them all think he must’ve done _something_ for her to leave, right Isabella?” 

My blood chilled. I could feel my heart quicken in my chest, my eyes seeing red- 

Angela quickly took my hand under the table, and uncurled my fist, holding it tight.

Holding me _down._

“Get lost, Lauren. That’s outta line and you know it.” Mike glowered. Eric looked between Lauren and I, as if assessing the likelihood of me vaulting the table to enact justice.

Low, if only because I’d probably face plant the table trying.

“I’m just _saying,_ Mikey. You never know what goes on behind closed doors.” Lauren smiled in a sickly saccharine grin, venom dripping from each word.

I wanted to shout, to scream, to _hurt her._

That was my _dad_ she was talking about.

“Lauren. Shut up.” I could feel the words slip out of my mouth without my permission, curled around my tongue and escaping in a chilly calm.

I had never felt so...heated and upset and _pissed_ before. 

“Lauren, sweetie, I suggest you fuck off kindly,” Jessica stated with an airy calmness that I could only wish to have. But then, Jess had _years_ of dealing with Lauren. 

“Why should I, Jessica? You don’t own the table.” Lauren raised an eyebrow, taking her hand and gripping Tyler’s arm with a force so hard I could _see_ his skin breaking underneath her nails. Jess, smiling sweetly, leant forward in her chair like a tiger waiting to pounce. My body thrummed with adrenaline.

Jessica was _violently_ creative.

“Oh, _honey,_ why ‘should’ you? Bless your heart.” Jessica laughed brightly, the ice of her words belying the genial tone. Southern Sweetheart Texan Jess was at her finest. I could feel Angela sliding closer to me, and from the corner of my eyes I could sense Tyler extricating his arm from Lauren’s grip and huddling closer to Eric. Lauren stood up, reminding me of how one is supposed to make themselves look bigger to threaten a bear, but it didn’t make much difference. Jess was even smaller than me, but she could make the tallest of people feel small without moving from her seat.

“First of all, before your shit gets wrecked to match your attitude, okay Raggedy Anne? Before I decide to take those ratty, plastic Dollar Tree bargain bin extensions and wrap them around your skinny little throat. Before I decide that suspension is worth kicking your ass, if only so that I can see the look on your face when I invert your fucking spine!” My eyes were locked onto the scene, mesmerized, though I could tell by the silence of the cafeteria that everybody else had figured out that _something_ was going on. Nobody got a verbal beat-down from Jess without reason, and everybody wanted to know why. The hold time Jessica’s tone was nothing but bright and congenial, like gossiping with an old friend, except loud enough for the whole room to hear.

I could see Lauren’s face glowing bright red, sharp frown tugging at her lips. Her fists were balled up at her side and her shoulders were tense. But her eyes shone with something that I recognized easily- I had seen it on my own face in the ballet room mirrors, with James holding my life in his hands all those months ago. In Ed- _Edward’s_ eyes as he realised what Jasper was about to do.

Fear.

“I’ll say it in words you might understand, okay sweetie? Nobody at any point, has ever desired or required a single word from you, let alone your whiny, nasal opinions that have all the depth of a puddle. You’re vapid and boring and I’m sick of pretending to tolerate it. Now if you dare say a _word_ about or to Bella and Mr Swan that is in any way shape or form unkind and placid, I will personally make it my singular goal in life to take everything you love from you and to destroy you, split end by split end. Okay, sweetheart?”

There was a silence, and Jess went back to her food. Lauren’s brain short-circuited for a moment, and the second she opened her mouth, Jessica, not looking up from her burger, waved her hand.

“Run along now,” Jess _dismissed_ Lauren, and turned to Mike with a genuine smile this time. 

“Hey, what did you get for question five on the Math paper we had to do this weekend?” She asked, and Lauren, part in fear and part in sheer bewilderment, just left. 

“Oh, yeah-um-let me have a look in my bag…”

Clearly not about to witness more of a fight (though there had definitely been a _murder_ in the cafeteria that day, the rest of the room broke out into soft murmurs. I knew Jess would get ahead of the gossip and as Forks High’s most trustworthy source of information, by the end of the day, Lauren would be a social pariah.

It took thirty seconds before anybody on the table said anything.

Angela, surprisingly, was the first to do so.

“So, how long have you been holding all that back?” She asked casually, having relaxed enough to slide back towards Jess. 

“Oh, only since the first thirty seconds of meeting her.” Jess winked, and the tension broke.

“Dude! Did you see her face?” Eric, possibly looking for a way to include it in the school paper.

“Jess, I think I love you.” Tyler, relieved of both escaping Lauren for the final time, which caused Jessica to giggle and respond with a “get in line, buddy.”

“Jess, I am both officially terrified and in awe for you.” Mike, looking at her, Math book finally in his hand and almost instantly abandoned again inside his bag. Jess shrugged, and leant forward to grab a french fry off of Mike’s tray, dipping it in ketchup as she leant back again.

“Hey!” He shouted indignantly, but Jessica simply raised an eyebrow. He cowed instantly, and his mouth snapped closed with an audible _clack._

I couldn’t not say anything any longer.

“Jess... _thank you_. I just completely froze in my anger, and you-you just-”

Jess rolled her eyes at me.

“Honestly, Bella, don’t be so _dramatic._ You’re one of us, and Mr Swan is possibly the best guy _in_ Forks. Neither of you deserve a case of Laurenitis.”

“That and Jessica could _definitely_ see that Lauren was planning something.” Angela chipped in. They read each other so effortlessly, the way that friends of many years tended to be able to do.

I hoped one day I could do the same thing, have the same sort of bonds.

“Oh, she for sure was gonna spread a rumor about your Dad being abusive or some shit. Trust me from years experience, she wasn’t gonna stop at bitchy comments the second she saw it affected you. You gotta put her in her place early, get her scared to say anything or she won’t stop at all.”

“Wow,” I sighed. “I think I agree with Mike and Tyler. I am both terrified and in love.” 

Jessica laughed brightly.

“Sorry, Bells, you’re hot but not my taste in women. Your _fine-ass Dad,_ on the other hand, is _definitely_ my taste in guys.” She winked, and I couldn’t help but groan in consternation, though inwardly part of me was pleased that the warmth that only comes with relentless bullying from dear friends was back.

Though they _never_ stopped teasing me about Charlie, not even years later.

The constant mortification was worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, I love bisexual icon Jessica Stanley.  
> and yes Charlie is a DILF and now officially not a cop because ACAB, BABEY!  
> FUCK Lauren Mallory.  
> I hope you like the shift in how Bella's "voice" is. I'm trying to slowly morph her voice as she grows as a human until chapter one and chapter whatever feels like completely different characters, cause Bella is a completely different person. I hope it's starting to be seen here.  
> The Human Bella Protection Squad is in full force. I love them <3  
> Sometimes a family is six humans and mental illness babey.


End file.
